Coming from his home late the next morning Thoen walks into the village center dreading what he might or might not see. Upon finding his old-time friend arguing with Simon he quickly turns back and walks the other way,
Why is it that my pain and guilt must be prolonged? Why can this awful situation not simply end and be done with?!
After a brief conversation with Whitey during which he buys another bottle of whiskey, Thoen sits down in the dust at the side of the road, rocking back and forth in a drunken stupor and quietly bemoaning his hardships.
The night's events having passed, Vorian seems strangely levelheaded today, as well as fully sober.
"Dear lady, I voted for poor Taraz to burn based almost solely on what I shamefully admit to have been a foolish vendetta. I hesitated and abstained from voting for you last night in the fear that I was doing the same. But I know now that old Eldon's words must have held truth, so I must now stand by my belief that you killed Wowbagger."
Turning his back on her, Vorian would seek out Tristen, coin purse in hand. Upon meeting him, he would grab his arm and thrust it into his hand. "It is as I said. Take it. To your grave, if you must. But for God's sake, do not open it until this is all over!"
I hesitated and abstained from voting for you last night in the fear that I was doing the same. But I know now that old Eldon's words must have held truth
What not many of you may know is that I have a way of seein' things. Sometimes it's wrong...
Alessandra looks Vorian in the eye, ready to defend her new leas on life. "Balderdash! Eldon was the first to admit that whatever insight he may have had wasn't infallible. Now, I feel guilty for even thinking this but as long as I'm standing accused of being a monster I'll come out and say it. If I was a wolf and I was going to eat anyone last night, it would've been Whitey. I was just so mad yesterday when he pushed his way to the front of the crowd and called me out!"
"Honestly! Just because the man died with a glowing mirror in his hand doesn't mean he saw the truth. Whatever pagan spirits he trifled with could have just as easily have the wolves's best interests in mind as ours!"
If I was a wolf and I was going to eat anyone last night, it would've been Whitey. I was just so mad yesterday when he pushed his way to the front of the crowd and called me out!"[/b]
Whitey looks at the ground sheepishly. He is having a hard time making eye contact with the professor.
"I'm sorry Professor Devries. I just got so caught up with the crowd that I went with the flow of things. I had discounted my own judgment for the judgment of others. Hearing you say that hurts me as much as I've hurt you. I don't expect you to forgive me for what I've done. I can only hope that you accept my apology."
"You good folks are all free to investigate my home. You'll find my fleas are the domestic variety. Uncomfortable, yes, murderous, no, do not let her words turn your minds again."
Simon stands firm, but sadness shows in his eyes.
"Alessandra, you claim innocence, prove it, show us that you've suffered no bite, use your skills and your books to provide a better reasoning than that of a scryer. You've given us no reason to distrust the words of good Eldon, just disrespectful comments about his craft, and now he's dead after telling us his vision of you.
Simon clenches his jaw and continues, the words pain him, but he doesn't relent.
"If his vision was untrue a cunning wolf would have targeted another and let him mislead us, only someone truly afraid of his only professed vision would have torn him apart.
After a sleepless night, Dan gets up at his usual early time. 'People won't want to cook for themselves and it keeps me busy.' His hands start working away.
Dawn breaks, early morning comes and goes Dan doesn't venture outside, frightened by another day. After a quick prayer, he realises that these are his friends, even the wolf doesn't want to harm him.
He walks outside with a tray of pies in his hand; "I have meat pies and apple pies for all!" he declares in a loud jovial voice.
"Let us fill our bellies before recriminations and see if we can get more of the memorial worked on." he calls out softly as he bites into a pie.
Tristen pats Dan on the shoulder, before taking a meat pie. "If we get through this Dan, I owe you so much money!" Tristen smiles unsteadily, before sighing.
'If...'
"Why do ya think I am doing it!" he says with a wink trying to lighten the mood.
Delicious pies Dan. I finally feel as though I'm starting to regain my appetite.
He nods his head and with a small spray of crumbs; "Thanks, I used t' fine wheat flour tha' you can stomach."
Wiping his face upon his sleeve then standing up stretching, the baker looks every bit the professional eater.
"Aye it wouldn't hurt to check out Eldon place, although it would feel a bit ghoulish. But if owt, we can at-least make sure it's ordered and clean." he looks down at his feet whilst he scuffs them on the floor.
Whitey draws a decorated silver flask from his breast pocket.
"I'm parched" he notes right before taking a big sip from the flask.
"Have a sip Virian"
Whitey holds out the flask to him.
"or do Werewolves have a hard time drinking from silver flasks?"
Vorian scowls at the implication and takes the flask.
"Whitey, even if I happened to be a blasted werewolf, I need a drink so damned badly right now that I'd drink from this silver or no."
He takes a big swig from it before passing it back.
"Now, do tell, is my face blistering?"
"The only thing thats blistering here are your lies Vorian. You are now exposed for what you are and by my word I swear I'm going to hang you myself. You have until sundown to get your affairs in order. After that, I'm coming for you."
"Alright , Duke shall we 'ave a peek around Eldon's house and check there's no notes. Or mad scribblings." Dan says whilst looking at this new squabble, first the accusations of Devries now Vorian. Dan squints his eyes, trying to figure out who the couple of wolves are.
"Surely you can't be serious. Come now, the drink wasn't that strong. Where in blazes is this coming from?"
"I know who the last Scryer is and I'm relaying a message for them. When they looked deep into my soul the first night and saw I was just a plain old villager we made an agreement. I love this village more than anything and am repaired to lay my life on the line. I'm working as a front-man in order to keep our odds higher. As long as the Scryer is safe the villagers will eventually find the remaining Wolf."
"Last night though, while they gazed upon your reflection it became apparent you have something you're hiding. You are a Werewolf Vorian. I manipulated you into changing your vote last night to protect the innocent. Now its time you pay for your sins."
"I'm sorry Professor Devries. I just got so caught up with the crowd that I went with the flow of things. I had discounted my own judgment for the judgment of others. Hearing you say that hurts me as much as I've hurt you. I don't expect you to forgive me for what I've done. I can only hope that you accept my apology."
Alessandra offers Whitey a smile. It's a thin smile, and clearly forced, but a smile nonetheless. "There's some sort of hysteria that comes over everyone around sundown, I've felt it myself. After that long and terrible night I found it in my heart to forgive Tristen for calling me a monster... I'm sure in time me and you will go back to being neighbors and friends and you can go back to selling the children those little pies that get their fingers so greasy. For now... apology accepted."
"You good folks are all free to investigate my home. You'll find my fleas are the domestic variety. Uncomfortable, yes, murderous, no, do not let her words turn your minds again."
The professor rolls her eyes at this deflection. "I'm not saying that your fleas are somehow malignant, I'm saying that normal people who stick to normal hygienic practices aren't infested with vermin. Those who turn into a wolf and romp through the forests at night though... it's easy to see how you could pick up a coat full of fleas."
"Alessandra, you claim innocence, prove it, show us that you've suffered no bite, use your skills and your books to provide a better reasoning than that of a scryer.
"Gladly! Depend upon it, Sir, when a person suspects her neighbors of conspiring to hang her, it concentrates the mind wonderfully. But what would you accept as proof? I was raised with certain standards of modesty, but I would permit one gentleman of the village to examine me for bites- provided he behaved in a gentlemanly manner! Other than that, what can I say? Much as I'd wish it otherwise I don't have the latest edition of How to Detect and Defeat a Werewolf, in Three Easy Steps on my shelves."
"The man had a dream, one that shook him to the core and convinced him to speak his mind to the village... yet he prefaced his statement by warning us that he is sometimes wrong about these things. I know I have had any number of dreams since this madness began, horrible bone-chilling dreams of all manner of ill circumstances that it would be in poor taste to discuss. I'm sure we've all had our nightmares; but sometimes a dream is just a dream. Eldon brought no actual evidence against me, so there is nothing to refute! You're just so desperate for someone to tell you what to do in times like this that you latch onto any accusation whatsoever- as long as it's not aimed at you!"
Just last night you were saying ”She is no wolf, the duke spoke rightly when he questioned why we lynched a wastrel and left a lawyer alive.” "Why the abrupt change of heart? You went from being ready to lynch Tristen to howling for my blood... are you deliberately trying to confuse the issue?"
"If his vision was untrue a cunning wolf would have targeted another and let him mislead us, only someone truly afraid of his only professed vision would have torn him apart."
The professor scowls at him and proceeds to tear into Simon's line of reasoning. "Simon, that's the most spurious reasoning I've heard in quite some time! My twelve year-old students to a better job of defending their arguments than that. You're begging the question, taking as a premise that I killed Eldon (because he dreamed of me) then using that as 'proof' that it must have been me that killed him (because he was killed and not someone else). Using the exact same "logic" I could state that a cunning wolf would have targeting Eldon to mislead you into hanging me." She shakes her head and says, in a reproachful tone, "Really, there may be a logical argument to be made that I am the werewolf, but I certainly haven't heard it yet- just a bunch of panicked finger pointing!"
He walks outside with a tray of pies in his hand; "I have meat pies and apple pies for all!" he declares in a loud jovial voice.
Alessandra helps herself to an apple pie, Oh! Thank you! I'm famished. Unlike one of us, I had nothing to eat last night..."
"The only thing that's blistering here are your lies Vorian. You are now exposed for what you are and by my word I swear I'm going to hang you myself. You have until sundown to get your affairs in order. After that, I'm coming for you."
"Umm... Whitey, are you feeling well?" She couldn't help but wonder whether the albino was suffering from an affliction brought on by the sun, or perhaps he'd eaten grain infected with ergot. The outburst was just so abrupt and so out of character from the jolly fellow that it seemed something must be wrong.
"Last night though, while they gazed upon your reflection it became apparent you have something you're hiding. You are a Werewolf Vorian. I manipulated you into changing your vote last night to protect the innocent. Now its time you pay for your sins."
The professor frowns, but remains silent. The villagers obviously had strong superstitions about these scryers, and it seemed it would behoove her not to offer criticism at this time. Whitey was obviously quite passionate about his accusation and believed every word he was saying... but the question remained as to whether he had truly been contacted by someone with supernatural knowledge, or was being manipulated. Regardless, she admired his courage for taking a stand about his beliefs- she'd seen exactly what could come of that.
Vorian frowns, put off by these insinuations of having been manipulated. He was quite certain that he had changed his vote of his own volition.
"You've gone mad. I just pointed my finger at Miss Devries here with the faith that these so-called 'scryers' weren't just vagrants that spew psycho babble. Do you truly believe what you are saying, or are you putting doubt into the words of a dead man?"
"Did not Wowbagger warn us before his demise?"
"I have been down this road before. Past experience has me put little truth in her words. When I am revealed to be innocent or killed, make sure you lynch the professor next."
We were fools to ignore those words once. Now Eldon the Scryer has warned us as well."
And last night I was seein you, Professor, all covered in blood. Talk of another wolf had even me afraid to speak up at first, but seein' the way people are talking, I wanna make sure we at least get you.
"It is true that I can't match wits with you Alessandra, you are the teacher and I the student. Were but your proverbial silver tongue literal, then we could see it steam in your mouth."
It is clear that Simon will not be swayed. His anger, shame, and paranoia have formed a perfect storm with it's eye on the professor.
"Yes, my fleas are fierce and my home unkempt, but surely Taraz sported more of the foul pests than I and he was an innocent man, so clearly fleas are not the hallmark of the wolf. As for your question of my motives,"
"Why the abrupt change of heart?"
"are you truly so quick to dismiss the words of Eldon, is it not clear where my change of heart derived?
Simon looks around at the others for support.
"Let me remind you that it was I who made sure we escorted you to the first bonfire, worried for you being alone in the library with a wolf about. It was I again who defended you when Tristin and Vorian cast votes your way, all that proves is that I've been a sucker for your words as have others in this village."
With a calculated look, Simon presses the attack.
"I accept your offer to let a single gentleman inspect you for bite marks, who do you choose for this task?"
"Let me remind you that it was I who made sure we escorted you to the first bonfire, worried for you being alone in the library with a wolf about. It was I again who defended you when Tristin and Vorian cast votes your way, all that proves is that I've been a sucker for your words as have others in this village."
She shakes her head sadly, "No, Simon, all it proves is that you're a good man, a healer, who didn't want to see an innocent suffer and who has let himself get carried away by superstition and fear and hate."
With a calculated look, Simon presses the attack.
"I accept your offer to let a single gentleman inspect you for bite marks, who do you choose for this task?"
Alessandra takes a deep breath before answering, there's a hint of a blush tinting her cheeks. I choose you. Despite all these ravings and recriminations I know you to be a good man. If anything will change your mind let this be the proof you require." With that, she retires to the privacy of her library and allows the herbalist to conduct his inspection.
@Simon: The only marks on the Professor's body are a bruised shins and paper cuts on her hands.
EDIT: Oh fine, Tristen can look too...
"Well then, it is quite fortunate for all of us that I do not have another form." She tells the Duke, with a level stare.
Vorian frowns, put off by these insinuations of having been manipulated. He was quite certain that he had changed his vote of his own volition.
"You've gone mad. I just pointed my finger at Miss Devries here with the faith that these so-called 'scryers' weren't just vagrants that spew psycho babble. Do you truly believe what you are saying, or are you putting doubt into the words of a dead man?"
Whitey is relentless in instilling the fact that he has played Vorian like a cheap harpsichord.
Oh, we're both dead men. I never expected you to come clean about what you are. That would only solidify your demise. No, your partner will have me as a late supper right after you're lynched. The town will be one step closer to ridding the infection you've brought upon us though. Soon things will return to normal and I will forever be the hero who sacrificed himself to save the village. You however, will be immortalized as the demon spawn who almost brought this town to an untimely end."
Tristen composes himself slightly, running a hand slowly through his hair. 'The accusations are flying faster than before now...Everyone is as scared as I am it would seem!'
As Simon suggests someone should check the Professor over, Tristen goes to raise his hand, before clenching it firmly at his side and blushing furiously. 'No I could not... Not for something like... Like THIS!' He giggles nervously to himself before shaking himself back to reality.
"Well now that that is uhm... sorted... How about we move on to something else. Like the monument. Any ideas?"
Simon doesn't bat an eye at Alessandra's choice of him for the inspection, the calculated look remaining on his face.
"Yes, as I suspected, for the one to inspect you could then have suspicion cast on them, I counter your offer, let both Tristen and myself be the ones to inspect you, we can't all three be wolves, so unless there is mutual agreement as to no bite marks then the truth will work it's way out."
A triumphant look crosses the herbalist's face.
"Do you accept my counter proposal?"
"And who might my partner be, hm? The best friend of yours that you so eagerly condemned at the drop of my hat? The brother in arms that died in the threshold of his own innocence? Or perhaps the raving seer who met his end for seeing what we could not?"
Vorian spits on the floor, shaking his head.
"No Whitey, those men were heroes. Whether I die by noose or claw, surely it will be you that these people cast into the bowels of Hell. No matter of human would look down upon his fellow man so easily."
Tristen stands there confused for a moment, before speaking. "Wait... What?"
"God! You're impossible! Can I do anything without it being 'as you suspected' or in some way twisted to cast aspersions on me? I offered to let you look because you're so damn'd insistant and because I don't want you to kill me. I'm hardly the first lady to give up her modesty to a fellow's relentless attentions."
The blush expands up Alessandra's cheeks and down her neck. She looks almost bashful as she turns to Tristan. "I... umm... he doesn't seem that he's going to let this go... would you, um... help...?"
Tristen swallows loudly before stammering out a response, "O-o-of c-c-course!" He blushes a little and sketches a bow, before turning to look at Simon.
"Why me may I ask, Sir?" Tristen frowns softly, accutely aware that Simon may be trying to lead him off to kill both him and the Professor at the same time.
Simon turns his calculated look to Tristen.
"Simple, it was you that was being voted along with her last time and you for whom she herself voted."
Full of confidence, Simon strides into the library, a few minutes later he exits, his face bright red, confidence evaporated and his demeanor utterly changed.
"I've", he starts, but his voice cracks and be pauses to swallow, then starts again, "I've now proof my fellow villagers of what you all must have suspected. I've proof that I'm an IDIOT! Oh Alessandra, forgive me!" Simon wails, "If we build a monument it should be a monument to my stupidity!
The distraught Simon collapses into a blubbering heap in front of the library.
"Listen not to my words from now out my friends, my mind has been addled by these stressful circumstances and paranoia leads me astray. Shame is my mantle, worse than the skin of a wolf. What can I do, professor, to make amends for my words and actions?"
Looking serene, Tristen steps out of the Library, smoothing his clothes back in to place. "Well... That was... Interesting!" Tristen coughs softly, tying his hair back tighter and making sure his spectacles are firmly on his nose, before patting Simon on the shoulder. "There there..."
"All is forgiven. I know how easy it is to be carried away with one's fears..." Poor Taraz! "...but for now what we can do is keep a cool head and approach this rationally. Surely there must be *someone* in the village who remembers the old ways, someone who can offer us some modicum of protection. I suggest that person reveal himself to Whitey in secret. If Whitey judges him trustworthy then he can pass word to our purported oracle and that person can make his accusations plainly and concisely without fear of the wolves. That way Vorian can face his accuser and we can hear the scryer tell of his visions directly and ask him questions directly until we are all satisfied of the justice of the accusation."
"Until the scryer is comfortable coming forward, or until someone can present a better course of action, I suggest we finish work on this monument. There's a sonnet that comes to mind that might be appropriate, by an English priest. it goes:
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy'or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
"We could carve that on one side, with a tribute to our fallen neighbors on the other. What do you think?"
Quietly and with a downcast gaze, still unable to meet the professor's eyes, Simon agrees.
"Yes, John Donne spoke well, it should be so that his words grace the side of our monument."
|
"We are not defeated, though if we fail to act, our conscience will not sway the wolves to not kill us all. I like not the idea of being the last person with just wolves here. We must vote! Though it is a heavy burden it is our own to bear!"
"Is easier to accept our fates then?"
"I am not a professor, yet I am a learned man!"
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dan shakes his head at the thought of all that nudity. 'I thought they were leaned? Ain't they heard folk-tales of the healing ability of werewolves, only being 'armed by silver and the like. She wouldn't have any marks on her pretty skin.' he slowly thinks.before it catches up to him. 'Oh, they just want to look at a pretty woman in the nuddy.'
He moves over to the monument as it's slowly taken shape; he starts mixing up some mortar. "Just like baking a cake " He says looking at the gloopy mess.
"Grand words." I do like a bit of poetry it lightens the mind, he says to the pair.
Seeming to have run out of alcohol, Thoen stumbles to his feet, unsteadily making his way to where the others are. Picking up a stack of bricks he makes his way closer to the monument and begins placing them.
As the warm wind of the woods blow a light sweet resinous breeze through the town, Dan smiles lightly. "Thanks, it's good to use you hands and work up a clean sweat. Helps the muscles clear out the booze, ready for a refill." His heavy voice rich as he puts down the mortar.
Silently, still red faced with shame, Simon shuffles toward the activities and begins helping with the bricks for the monument.
Best to get the bricks stacked before the mortar starts setting in the tub.
The poems recited by the Professor and the Duke ring true, the words and ideas spanning the gap of time to perfectly describe the troubles facing poor little Laniel.
Looking at the ruddy faced man, Dan whispers "She that cute beneath the dress?" he lightly jibes, hoping to lighten Simons mood.
"This is meant to be a celebration of life, of spirit, not a chore or a funeral. We have enough of that." his voice carries across the cobbled square.
With a quick glance Simon meets Dan's eyes and the corners of his mouth threaten to curl into a smile. "Clearly the finest woman in the village" he retorts.
Vorian spits on the floor, shaking his head.
"No Whitey, those men were heroes. Whether I die by noose or claw, surely it will be you that these people cast into the bowels of Hell. No matter of human would look down upon his fellow man so easily."
Precisely! No matter of Human would look down upon his fellow MAN so easily. When staring a Werewolf in the face though it is a completely different story!
Vorian opens his mouth to say something but stops, shuts it, and shakes his head, smiling coyly.
"Very well then, Whitey. I know how many of these people you have under your thumb; it's a wonder that they can place so much trust into a fool like yourself. My death is all but certain. I only pray I live long enough to see the one pulling your strings!"
With that, he leaves the bartender, confused and angry over the sudden turn of events. The nerve of the man! And yet, if he spoke the truth, then it was the supposed Scryer that would be at fault. Passing by the monument, he gives it a look of disgust before retiring to his makeshift shop.
"Let it be known that I am the puppet and not the one pulling the strings. I do what I must to protect them because they are more valuable than myself."
Quizzically Dan asks; "So Whitey how is the Baner to know who to protect, if you won't reveal your sources?"
Then he turns to the merchant Vorian calling out after the fleeing form; "So who do you think the wolf is? Is it Whitey, or is he being manipulated? Or is it the Professor as you thought last night, before your retraction." he slaps another brick in place. 'At least that proves he isn't the scryer, or a mason, else he would have spoken.'